


You Can Always Be Found

by charlesdk



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, Fluff, M/M, Photographer Steve Rogers, photographer!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7088005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesdk/pseuds/charlesdk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How he hadn't seen this man walk inside was a wonder to him. He was gorgeous, stunning, the kind of beautiful he wanted to look at for hours, take pictures of in every lighting, every scenery, anywhere and everywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Always Be Found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Niedergeschlagen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niedergeschlagen/gifts).



A young child with a melting ice cream in her hand and a mother bend down, wiping her daughter's ice cream filled face with a napkin, the daughter smiling widely and not paying her mother any attention.

A dog sitting by an old man's side, mouth hanging open and tongue out, looking happy and content with the man's hand scratching the top of its head.

An abandoned umbrella leaning against the side of a bakery, the red color standing out against the dark green of the design on the large window.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Steve's lips, when the picture of a young girl throwing a bright yellow frisbee and a large dog already in sprint came up on the small screen of his camera. He zoomed in, focusing on the way the dog's tail was mid-wag. It was cute, bright, and happy, the kind of picture he liked having in his camera folder. Untouched and unedited.

He deleted a blurry picture of a building in Brooklyn, before turning the camera off and setting it on the small, round table he was seated at, finally lifting his gaze and looking around the coffee shop he was in.

The place wasn't full or crowded like he guessed most coffee shops would be on a day as pleasantly warm as this one. Just a handful of people were seated around the place, a group of three girls at the counter ordering and making small conversation with the barista. They looked like friends with the way they were smiling at each other, hands gesturing widely between them as they talked, bright laughs filling the coffee shop every few minutes.

An old couple was sitting on the other side and against the wall, leaning against each other and not saying a thing. It made a small smile appear on Steve's lips, jealousy bubbling in his chest. His eyes wandered and he found the two guys sitting across each other to his right. It looked like a date, if the closeness of their feet and the way the guy whose face he could see – smiling, eyes shining with happiness, all focused on the guy in front of him – looked had anything to say.

There was a girl sitting by herself, eyes on the phone in her hand and ear buds in her ears, her foot tapping along to the music in her ears every once in a while. A to-go cup was placed on the table in front of her, but she hadn't left the shop since she got it, Steve had noticed.

The last person in the coffee shop had Steve doing a double take before freezing completely, eyes locked onto the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on.

How he hadn't seen this man walk inside was a wonder to him. He was gorgeous, stunning, the kind of beautiful he wanted to look at for hours, take pictures of in every lighting, every scenery, anywhere and everywhere. His long, dark brown hair was pulled back into a bun, a few loose strands falling over a beautifully shaped face. A days old stubble filled his strong jaw, and his pink lips were pulled into a small and private smile. His right hand was clutching a phone close to his ear, while his left was tugged away in his jacket's pocket.

Steve couldn't see his eyes, the man's gaze downcast, but he was certain they were as beautiful as the rest of him was.

He didn't even realize what he was doing until he was already doing it, camera lifted and pointed at the gorgeous man sitting a few tables from him, a cup of something hot on the table in front of him, obviously forgotten as he was busy talking with someone on the phone. Someone he knew, considering the smile was warm.

Steve took one, two, three pictures that all looked similar, before the man lifted his gaze and looked ahead of him, giving Steve the opportunity to get just one or two pictures of his profile. His beautiful profile that made him wish he had left his camera at home and had grabbed his sketch book instead. He would spend hours sketching every line, every curve, every mark on this man's face, and he would treasure every second spend looking at him.

He lowered his camera for a minute, going through the pictures he had taken already. The small screen didn't do the man's beauty justice. Then again, he hadn't expected to capture his beauty, not really. He just wanted to remember him, to have something to remind himself that a man this beautiful was real. Real and walking around among people.

When he looked back over at him, the man had turned. Turned and looked straight at him.

The warm smile was still firmly in place, softer now, and Steve was right. The man's eyes were as beautiful as the rest of him. Piercing blue and surprisingly warm despite the cold color. He looked tired. Heavy bags under his eyes. Bags that reminded him of the ones under his own.

Steve's face felt hot, knew his cheeks were probably turning a light shade of pink at the way the man's smile widened. He watched as the man said something to the person on the phone, his lips forming words Steve didn't recognize, and hung up, slipping the phone into his pocket and getting up from his seat, cup in hand.

He watched as the man came over to him, gave him a quick once over, and then sat down across the table from him, the warm and wide smile having relaxed into a friendly and kind one, blue eyes firmly on him.

“So,” the man said, leaning forward and resting his right arm on the table, the left still safely tugged into the pocket. “Were you taking pictures of me just now?”

“I- Yeah,” Steve admitted with a sigh and set the camera down on the table, a quick and apologetic smile appearing on his lips. “Sorry. I can delete them, don't worry.”

“No, it's okay,” the man was quick to say, the warm and friendly smile turning into a teasing grin within the blink of an eye. “I can't blame you. I mean, I am pretty handsome.”

Steve blinked, stared at him for a moment, and then snorted a quick laugh. “Well, aren't we confident.”

“With a face like this?” The man gestured at his own face, and Steve couldn't help the surprised laugh that escaped him. “Of course I am.”

They were silent for a moment, a moment where Steve lowered his gaze to the camera he hadn't realized he was fidgeting with, suddenly nervous with this man's eyes on him. They were silent for only a moment, before the man spoke up again.

“I'm Bucky,” he said, the smile back in all its warm glory when Steve looked up at him.

“Steve,” he introduced himself back, a warm smile of his own directed at Bucky.

**{ x }**

A picture of Bucky with his head tipped back, one eye shut tight, the other squinting, his right hand held up to cast a shadow over his face, a smile tugging at his lips.

A picture of Bucky facing the camera, sitting leaned back on an old looking couch, right arm thrown over the back and left hand – metal, just like the rest of the arm – held up, middle finger raised and a wide grin on his lips, his brown hair let loose and hanging over his gorgeous face.

A sketch of Bucky's profile, no colors added, his beauty not entirely captured. (“Don't insult your skills, Stevie, this is gorgeous.”)

A picture of Bucky with his head resting on Steve's shoulder, a small smile on his lips, his eyes closed. Steve with a hand on the small of Bucky's back, the two of them slow dancing in the middle of Clint's living room, Natasha with a grin on her lips and Sam with his head thrown back in a happy laugh in the background. Clint took the picture.

A picture of the two of them crammed into the frame, Bucky's cheek pressed against Steve's, both of them laughing, the night sky full of stars behind them.

“I can't believe you made me a scrapbook, you fucking sap,” Bucky said with a huff as he turned to the next page, a picture of Sam with his arms swung around both of them, all three of the laughing, making the smile on his lips grow wider.

Steve hummed softly behind him. They were sitting on the bed in Bucky's small apartment, Steve behind Bucky, arms wrapped around his waist. He dipped his head down and pressed his lips to a bare shoulder, a small smile on his lips as Bucky chuckled at the picture on the next page. It was of Sam and Bucky, Sam's hand buried in Bucky's messy hair, mid-ruffle, an annoyed look on Bucky's face but a pleased one on Sam's.

“And all I got you were baseball tickets,” Bucky continued in a mumble, his head shaking lightly and the ends of his still long hair tickling Steve's nose.

“Hey, shut up, jerk,” Steve said and lifted his head, bringing a hand up to turn Bucky's head. “I love my gift.”

The smile that had faltered slightly from Bucky's lips was quick to return, and he didn't hesitate to lean back against Steve's chest. “And I love you, punk,” he said in a lowered voice, before he leaned in and kissed him, the kiss returned with no hesitation.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come cry about fictional characters with me on [tumblr](http://hoechlbutt.tumblr.com/).


End file.
